


Flames

by Madhvija



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Angst, Eventual Romance, F/M, Mutual Pining, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-17
Updated: 2018-08-01
Packaged: 2019-05-24 08:50:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14951478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Madhvija/pseuds/Madhvija
Summary: Back on Earth, it's only a matter of time before something ignites. After everything they've been through, there's no denying the spark they feel, the heat that runs between them.OR, how Bellamy and Clarke might might resolve their feelings for each other. Indirectly, and with a lot of stubbornness.Canon divergent 5X06





	1. A Spark

A tenuous calm came over the ruins of Polis. The nervous tension building over the night had dissipated as Diyoza's ship disappeared back over the horizon, carrying the defectors who had miraculously avoided getting caught in the gunfire.

And with that moment passing, it was as though a tight cord of tension had snapped, a bone weary stillness settling over the remaining denizens of the bunker and its surrounds.

Clarke had returned Madi to their tent, hand disinfected and bandaged, hiding the secret that Clarke was fighting so hard to protect. After that, despite her exhaustion, Clarke found herself wandering outside in the dark a few hours later, taking a seat in front of the smouldering embers of a desserted fire pit. She found herself reflecting on the last few days, processing a little of the emotion she'd been pushing down into the pit of her gut during all the stress and activity.

After six years, to have so many people back in her life in almost a single day… she felt exhausted from it all. With Madi asleep, and without any fast approaching crisis to be handled, she felt a cold, heavy dread begin to churn inside her. A part of her felt foolish, after letting herself daydream for so long about what reunions awaited her when everyone returned. The imagined looks, embraces… touches. She'd imagined fingers carding through her hair, tracing along her neck, brushing against her lips. It had warmed her heart through long cold nights, thinking about what might come to be….

Those same images made her bristle with embarrassment now, ashamed that she let herself get so carried away, to entertain such romantic notions. But as much as she could, she refused to dwell on those thoughts. Everyone was home on the ground, that was what mattered. The heartache she could feel threatening to topple her, that was manageable. Never mind that she could see the way her friends had filled in the spaces once meant for her. That was all ok, because for the next little while at least, everyone she cared about was alive.

Everyone had their feet on the ground. Most importantly, Madi was safe. At least for now, she reminded herself, as she wrapped her arms around her stomach tightly, staring blankly into the fire.

And that was how Bellemy found her. Looking at the fire with unseeing eyes, brow furrowed slightly; pouting, for lack of a better word. She didn't seem to notice his approach, deep in thought as she was, and he found himself taking her in. Basking in the sight of her. Despite the way it made him feel off balance, untethered to the ground below him, like he was back in space.

He cleared his throat softly as he moved closer, hoping to gently shake her from her reverie. It seemed to work, and he noticed the moment Clarke became aware of his presence, relaxing and tensing at the same time as she turned her head to watch him sit next to her.

"How are you going?" he asked, voice rumbling in that scratchy pitch he took on when trying to be gentle. Their eyes connected for a moment and then Clarke was looking back into the fire, a humourless smile on her lips.

"I should really be the one asking you that. You've got people out there. Raven, Murphy, Emori…" she could feel the lump in her throat as she finished her list, "…Echo." She swallowed it back down, hoping he didn't notice the hesitation in her voice. "It must be tough being away from them like this after so long."

It's not a question. Clarke didn't know what she expected him to say back. She found herself scared of the answer; and unbidden, felt something like a sob welling up underneath her ribs. Focusing on the fire, she pushed it down, desperately trying not to give anything away on her face. After a moment, she could feel her brow furrowing deeper from the effort and that allowed her to feel angry at herself instead of torn apart.

All this passed in a moment while Bellamy looked on, waiting for her to focus on him again. He sensed she was holding something back from him, and was tempted to push at what ever it was, but then realised he didn't know how. instead, he turned to face the fire. It was cathartic, he noticed, being close to the chaotic warmth of the flames after so long in the cold of space.

"It's hard to get used to," he found himself nodding. "After so long on the ring, always knowing where everyone was. It's - It's not a good feeling, to be apart." His feet shifted in the dirt as he leant his elbows on his thighs, letting his shoulders slump as some of the tension from the last few hours left him. He felt Clarks's eyes on him, and looked back at her from the corner of his eye. For a moment he thought he saw a look of pain on her face, her nostrils flaring, mouth tightly drawn in a line. Then the next moment it was gone, schooled back into a concerned frown. But it had been there, Bellamy was sure of it, thinking again about what she was holding back from him. Another moment passed and Clarke was looking at him with determination, reaching out to place a comforting hand on his forearm. Then, all he could focus on was the feeling of heat blooming from the place her fingers touched him. It seemed like days since he'd last felt her touch, and he was surprised how much relief he felt seeping through him at the contact.

"They'll be ok. Raven will figure something out. She always does. And- And Echo-," there was that horrible lump in her throat again. Clarke felt a physical ache as she continued. "Echo's smart and strong, she'll… do what needs to be done. And," the words felt like stones in her mouth, "she'll come back to you. You'll get her back"

His eyes lingered on her hand a moment longer. She'd given his arm a squeeze, and he felt his body flush at the contact once more, startling him. He pulled his gaze up to meet hers again, faltering as he took in the bare skin of her collarbone, her neck, her lips.

He felt something pulling at him as their eyes connected. It was familiar and alien all at once, like the flames from the fire had jumped into the pit of his belly. He felt his lips parting but whatever he'd intended say fell away as his mouth suddenly dried.

Then the moment was over, his arm cold as Clarke took her hand away suddenly, as though burnt. Bellamy came back to himself and drew up straighter in his seat and he watched the startled look Clarke gave her hand, and then him. She blinked, shaking her head, and then she was standing, backing away from him and the fire towards her tent.

"I'm going to check on Madi, her hand. Ah. She might need the bandage changed." She gave him a small smile. "Try to get some sleep."

And then she was gone, ducking into the safety of her tent. Bellamy looked on, staring at the space she'd filled a moment before. His forearm still tingled from where her hand had rested. His chest ached. And there was a dull warmth spreading throughout his limbs that had nothing to do with the fire.

It frightened and thrilled him all at once.


	2. A Flicker

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Madi isn't sold on Clarke's approach with Bellamy. Not even a little bit.

Over the course of the next few hours, Bellamy hadn't had another chance to speak with Clarke. There was nothing to do but wait until they had word from Echo or Raven, but he did what he could to make himself feel useful, getting more acquainted with the layout of the bunker and ruins of Polis as they stood now, and setting up a base of operations with Monty to ensure they were ready once the eye fell.

"Everything's set up, so as soon as we get the signal, we'll start integrating with the system and shutting things down from there." Monty had reassured him, showing him the programming momentarily before noticing how out of depth Bellamy was. "Murphy and Emori radioed in. They're making their way here as quickly as they can. Said they were bringing us back a surprise." Bellamy had raised his eyebrows at that, but Monty didn't elaborate, shrugging instead. "I think it's a good surprise, Murphy didn't say anything else. We're not sure who's got ears on our comms, better safe than sorry."

Bellamy left him with a squeeze on the shoulder, and it wasn't long before he found himself intruding on a war council between Octavia and her generals. He was momentarily barred from entering, but a raised eyebrow from him to Octavia had her standing down the guards.  
She was as stern as ever, but seemed to relax slightly around him now that Echo was out of sight. She'd resigned herself keeping him in the loop, at least for the next day or so. Although he could see how her patience frayed as the hours ticked by.

The conversation had turned to contingency plans, as though there were any, about what to do if the eye stayed operational and a mass assault remained out of the question. Cooper hissed like a snake at Octavia, venom dripping from her words.

"If the girl fails, then we need to decide our next move quickly. We can send out a small group of our people to gain a foothold."

Bellamy looked on, watching for the changes in Octavia's expression that he'd learnt to recognise when they were younger, but he couldn't get a read on what she was thinking. It was as though she'd shed all of her tells in the bunker. Her eyes remained hard as she surveyed the room, lips drawn down in an almost sneer.

"We could send them now," Indra counseled, "find another route that allows them to circle around outside the focus of their sight." Her tone was more cautionary, less abrasive than Cooper's.

All eyes trained on the map in front of them, annotated by Clarke a few hours earlier. Bellamy followed the lines of her handwriting, wishing she was in the room with them now. He hadn't spoken to her since they'd sat by the fireside, and the longer he went without being able to check on her, the more anxious he felt. Like she might disappear while he wasn't looking.

"That will take too long. When she's discovered, it'll only be a matter of hours before Diyoza strikes again." Cooper argued. "A small group, two or three, should be able to make it across the desert without being detected. We know the terrain now."

"And we know it's suicide until we can fortify our preparations," Indra argued back, while Bellamy bristled. He moved forward, interrupting her.

"Echo won't get caught. And if she does she won't betray us," he growled, "she's better than that".

Octavia gave him a long look, dubious.

"I wouldn't be so sure brother. Snakes may shed their skin, but they remain a snake to the bone." The smile she directed him was acid filled. "It doesn't matter; the strike will come even if the traitor spy succeeds. We need eyes on the valley."

Bellamy met her stare, crossing his arms and slouching, bringing himself closer to her height. When he spoke, he made sure the edge was gone from his voice.  
"I don't necessarily disagree. But if Kane had a hand in their last move, we've got time. They'll see the defection as a success and will be waiting to see what we do next." Octavia reared up quickly at the mention of Kane.  
"That coward wants to see the destruction of Wonkru-" She roared, slamming her hands on the table in front of them. But Bellamy was quick to interject.

"Did he really change that much in the Bunker?" Bellamy questioned, keeping his voice as calm as possible, supplicating in his manner. "He always tried to avoid unnecessary losses in the past. The defections were meant to undermine your authority. Sow dissent. The board is stacked in their favour now as far as they're concerned. All they have to do is wait to see how quickly Wonkru turns against itself. Striking again so soon would only direct the attention back to them when they want all eyes on you." Bellamy watched was she stewed over his words. He could see the sag in Indra's shoulders out of the corner of his eye, whether out of relief or defeat he wasn't sure. "The last thing they'd want you to do now is show restraint," Bellamy Continued. "That's exactly why you should."

"Fine," Octavia conceded, eying him wearily. "If our best option remains taking down the eye, we focus on maintaining order here." She decided, pushing back off the table to her full height. "Fortify our borders," she barked. "And I want to know the second anyone breaths dissent. If we have to increase our patrols and start checking door to door, that's what we do."  
Cooper nodded quickly, ready to begin carrying out her leader's order. She turned to snarl at the guards posted at the door, but Octavia raised her hand to stop her.  
"And let everyone know. Any attempts of treason will be met in the pit. Justice will be served against all who betray Wonkru."

That signaled the end of the council. Bellamy watched as they shuffled out the door, hoping to speak with Octavia alone. Instead, Octavia signaled and he was being herded out in front of Miller, arm firmly about his arm. He resisted slightly as Cooper smiled bitterly at him, coming to stand closer to Octavia as the the door closed behind him. The metallic ring of the latch sliding into place brought his attention forward, and he gently wrenched his arm from Miller's hold.

"Don't push it," was all Miller said, as he moved to head up and outside the bunker. Bellamy looked on for a moment before shifting his gaze towards the pit. Catching sight of Clarke as she walked alongside Gaia and Madi. The latter was smiling brightly at the older women, chatting enthusiastically while Clarke nodded along. Gaia turned to head back below, and Bellamy noticed Clarke watch her retreating back with concern, before she refocused on the young girl in front of her and smiled.

Bellamy took the time to observe Clarke and Madi together, the careful way Clarke interacted with the young girl, nodding along to the conversation, gently patting her head in encouragement. It wasn't out of place exactly, Clarke had always been nurturing. He'd been on the receiving end of her care enough times to understand that about her. But to see it so focused, it took his breath away.

Madi seemed to feel his eyes on them, and she turned her gaze up at him, a gentle frown crossing her face while she said something to Clarke. What ever it was had Clarke turning her attention to him too, whipping her head around with something close to panic in her eyes. She kept her gaze on him a second longer before focusing back on Madi, ducking down and crowding closer to the girl, a gentle hand bracing the back of her neck making sure she had all of Madi's attention.

A yell of his name had Bellamy turning to watch Monty jogging towards him. There was an excited gleam in his eye, and Bellamy closed the distance between them as he caught his breath, bracing his hands on his knees.

"All this gravity sure takes it out of a guy" Monty huffed, straightening up. "Murphy and Emori are back, and they've got one of the Eligus crew. Guy called McCreary. Sounds like they almost blew him up!" Monty exclaimed, and Bellamy felt the edges of excitement begin to crawl under his own skin. "They figure we can try and get a bit of information out of him, potentially use him as leverage against the others." His smile was contagious, and Bellamy found himself nodding. "Octavia's people are bringing him here." Monty continued, a little more subdued. "They spotted Murphy coming into Polis"

Bellamy sobered up immediately.

"Shit. Ok," Bellamy braced his hand on Monty's shoulder. "Then we've got to make sure we're in the room when they start talking to him." His eyes looked back to the closed door of Octavia's makeshift council room. "It could be a real problem if we're out of the loop." He paused, frowning at Monty as a thought came to him. "Is there anything you can do to make sure we have ears on them at all times?"

Monty smiled back.  
"I'll see what I can do."

This earned him a clap on the back from Bellamy, the smaller man heading back in the direction of his new workshop. Bellamy looked back down to where Clarke was still speaking in hushed tones with Madi. The young girl looked close to tears, and before he could stop himself, Bellamy was walking towards them.

The thump of his footfalls as he drew closer behind her had Clarke pulling herself back to her full height, shoulders straightening and hands squeezing gently atop of Madi's shoulders. He caught the end of Clarke's statement to the girl.

"… sorry for. OK? It's just…" She cut herself off, and Bellamy watched her bring a hand to her face, letting out a big exhale that bordered on a laugh. After a moment Bellamy took the chance to speak.

"Hey Clarke," he started, watching her turn to him. Her eyes on him had his chest tightening, and Bellamy couldn't fight the soft smile he sent her way, his heart stuttering as she returned it almost immediately with a watery smile of her own. "I wanted to catch you up. Murphy and Emori made it back." Clarke's eyes widened slightly. She took a shuddering breath, and Bellamy quickly noticed her expression shifting, catching the open sadness of her eyes momentarily, before it was shuttered and replaced with a concerned frown.

* * *

Clarke had been watching Madi interact with the other Novitiates that morning. Going through the forms and drills she had seen become deadly on the battlefield over six years ago. She watched Gaia teach the children as she moved through the group, correcting posture and movement as she went. The smile she directed at Madi seemed genuinely warm to Clarke, which confused her; unable to decide where Gaia stood as enemy or ally. The lesson began wrapping up and Gaia walked towards her, smiling gently in a way Clarke assumed was meant to be disarming.

"She's doing well," Gaia commented, as she turned at Clarke's side to look back over the children. "Did you have a chance to train her in the Valley?" Madi was smiling at a boy her age as they packed away the practice swords they'd been drilling with. Hey joy made Clarke smile, so unused to seeing her in a state of play like this.

"A little," Clarke returned, allowing herself a moment to let her guard down. "To be honest, I've never been the most adept with hand to hand. But I taught her what I know. It never hurts to be prepared."

"Well, she certainly seems to have embraced It. Her form is excellent for a beginner." The other children began to filter out of the room, and Madi found herself the focus of both women as she approached them smiling. Clarke reached out to gently ruffle her hair, smiling back at the young girl. Gaia was the first to speak.

"I'm very impressed with what I've seen from you today Madi. There are a couple more things I need to pack up in the pit, but I'd love to chat to you and Clarke more about what we hope to teach you."  
They began walking together to the large anti chamber, Madi eagerly offering to help pack, and taking Clarke by the arm to start sharing all she'd learnt that morning, as though Clarke hadn't been watching over her through the whole thing.

She was halfway through describing the differences between the way she was supposed to hold a sword and the way Clarke had showed her when her attention drifted over Clarke's shoulder and her smile faded.

"You should tell him about the radio," she mumbled. Clarke whipped her head around to see what had caught Madi's attention, and she found herself eye to eye with Bellamy at the top of the ramp, looking over them with his arms crossed tightly across his chest.

"Madi," she warned, turning back to the child. The girl was unperturbed. A fierce look crossed her face.

"He should know Clarke," she implored. "If he knew that you spoke to him every day, he'd realise how much he means to you and how much you missed him. And then he'd-" Clarke cut her off.

"Madi," she started, softly. "It's not that simple. Everything's changed from how it used to be. And everyone's dealing with so much right now." She'd taken the young girl by the shoulders, giving them a reassuring squeeze and bringing the two of them closer.

"But you lov-" Madi tried again, but Clarke cut her off swiftly. Her voice beginning to choke with emotion.

"Madi. He's with someone. Someone who makes him very happy. It's- I- What I feel doesn't matter" They were almost eye to eye now, tears brimming between them. When Madi spoke again her voice was almost a whisper, wavering with unchecked emotion.

"It wasn't supposed to be like this Clarke. He was supposed to hear you. And. And when he came down here, you'd be together. We'd be together in the valley. Everything about this is wrong," Madi pouted. It was the most vulnerable she'd seen Madi in a long time, watching as the girl scrubbed at her cheek in frustration. Clarke smiled sadly back at her.

"We both know that things don't always work out the way we want them to, little one. But I'm thankful anyway. We're all on the ground, out in the open air. And I will do everything I can to make sure we get back to the valley together," She reassured the girl. "And you know what? No matter what happens next, we have each other. And I am so happy I've got you by my side." There was a shift in the young girl's demeanour immediately, shifting from her own unhappiness to Clarke's.

"I'm sorry Clarke. I didn't mean to-," Madi started. But Clarke was shaking her head and straightening as she heard footfalls behind her.

"You have nothing to be sorry for. It's just…" she trailed off, wiping at the tears and letting out a strange sob as she exhaled. And not a moment later, she heard a voice she'd been hoping to avoid for a little while longer.

"Hey Clarke," Bellamy started. Clarke collected herself and turned, returning his smile with the best smile she could pull together as he shared the news about Emori and Murphy's recent success. She turned briefly to direct Madi to the corner of the room where the training gear was waiting to be packed away, and allowed the news from Bellamy to dictate her mood, focusing on the possible consequences for taking the prisoner that would soon be in their custody.  
"We'll be moving him here to secure him," he continued. "Octavia's people spotted Murphy bringing him in."  
Clarke nodded, frowning at Bellamy.

"If they captured him through the night, there's a good chance he doesn't know anything about the defection," Clarke cautioned. "There's only so much he'll be able to tell us," she continued carefully, gauging Bellamy's reaction. His nerves seemed frayed, that much Clarke could tell immediately. There was an edge of desperation to his voice and bearing that she recognized from their time together years ago. He'd crossed his arms as she talked, dropping his head down in a nod that had his shoulders curling in almost defensively as she continued.

"But he might know what Diyoza's next move is. McCreary seemed close to her, he might as well be her second in command." He looked up at this, eyes brightening slightly with hope. She was about to reassure him further, to comfort him, when Gaia called out to her from the doorway of the training room. She excused herself with a quick squeeze of her hand around his arm, not remembering when she began touching him in the first place.

* * *

Clarke moved away from him and Bellamy found his eyes drifting back to where Madi was packing away ropes and training gear in the corner. The girl must have been watching them, because when his eyes met hers she snapped her head down to continue winding the rope around her elbow and hand, circling it back on itself. He made his way over, smiling warmly at her.

"Want some help?" He offered, already moving to pick up a bundle of rope from the pile. "Were you guys practicing knots or something this morning?" he queried, huffing out a laugh. Madi watched him intently, her movements slowing. Her answer was mumbled slightly, far shier than the last time they had spoken, that night before he rescued Clarke.

"Not today, but they bring all this stuff out just in case." He nodded back at her, smiling again. She didn't return the smile. Instead, her gaze shifted between him and where Clarke had disappeared to with Gaia. "I think I upset Clarke today." Bellamy wasn't sure what she meant, so he just nodded at her to continue. Instead she refocused on the rope in her hands, gripping it tighter.

"Hey," he soothed, getting her attention once more. "I'm sure she's not upset at you. And even if she was… I used to upset her all the time. And speaking from experience, she's not going to hold it against you at all." Madi's eyes were wider now as she regarded him. He kept his smile on her, continuing to reassure her.. "I'm sure you've got nothing on me, I was a complete pain in her ass half the time." He corrected himself quickly. "Most of the time, really. On purpose. And we still ended up friends." Madi looked back at the training room doorway again.

"You guys were really close, weren't you?" She asked cautiously, "before Primfaiya?" Bellamy's smile widened proudly as he replied.

"We were best friends," he confirmed, pleased by the memory. He waited for a smile to start on Madi's face, instead seeing her frown intensify.

"But you're not now?" she questioned sadly, mouth trembling.

Bellamy jolted. Thrown completely by the question, and the little girl's tone. She looked heartbroken, and Bellamy found himself stammering slightly.

"No- We- . I mean of course we're still-," he started, dumbly. His thoughts scattered at the unexpected question. He hadn't even registered his use of the past tense. So used to thinking of Clarke as gone from him.

Madi, watched him, waiting for an answer, rope forgotten. He faintly registered his continued stammering, but she started shaking her head.

"Clarke was right, everything has changed."

Now Bellamy was confused. Blinking dumbly at the girl, he began to question the statement when she continued, eyes furiously flashing up at him.

"You let her go," she hissed. "She always knew you'd come back, and you let her go." She threw the rope down, hands clenching at her sides as she continued to level her accusation at him. "You were her family, and you made a new one without her." Tears were escaping unwanted from her eyes now, and she scrubbed at them quickly, still seething at him. "And now, I'm all she has. Because you're here, but you let her go," she sobbed.

"Madi," Clarke's voice cried out, and Madi was pushing passed him to run into her arms across the room. Bellamy turned and watched as the girl buried her head in Clarke's shoulder, the latter bringing her arms around the girl immediately, consoling her without hesitation. Clarke brought her head up and levelled a look at him. Questioning, angry. He was floored. He couldn't say anything. Instead, he stood there incredulously, mouth gaping and head shaking in confusion.

Clarke returned to comforting the girl and he could hear her questioning Madi softly, but the girl just shook her head and buried her face further into her surrogate mother's frame.

The moment was broken by yelling from the bunker's entrance. Bellamy looked up and a second later Murphy was bursting through the entryway, crowing with success. Bellamy almost smiled, but his eyes were drawn back to Clarke immediately in concern. He watched as Gaia approached the pair gently, and after a brief hushed conversation, she was ushering Madi back into the room they'd trained in earlier. Then Clarke was walking towards him, the questioning glare on her face enough to have him raising his hands defensively.

"What did you say to her?" She fumed. And he shook his head.

"I don't know," He started. "She thought she had upset you, so I mentioned that I used to upset you all the time and it would be ok. And then she-," he sobered as he spoke, his gaze and voice hardening. "She thinks I abandoned you," he concluded. Clarke's eyes widened and he watched her face shift with emotion. Surprise, concern and sadness moving across her face before she caught herself and eyes became fixed again. "Is that how you feel Clarke?" He questioned.

Her answer was immediate, tone gently despite her earlier anger.  
"You had to leave Bellamy, we both know that. I've never blamed you for that"

But he could sense the deflection in her answer this time. The defensiveness in her gaze.

"That doesn't answer the question Clarke," he returned, determined, his previously fluster forgotten. He watched her jaw set as she looked away from him. There was commotion occurring at the lip of the bunker as McCreary was brought in, struggling in his restraints against the arms of his captors. But whatever he was shouting was lost on Bellamy as he waited on Clarke to answer, watching her intently. When she looked back at him, her face was almost unreadable, but Bellamy was sure he could see her eyes go glassy as she spoke.

"You thought I died," she stated, shrugging lamely. "However I thought things would be when you got back…" she cleared her throat, "That's on me." She looked back at McCreary before meeting his eyes once more. "You don't owe me anything," she finished. Then she was walking away from him, eyes fixed on McCreary as he was herded into the bunker.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can definitely see any personal revelations of Clarke's being played out by the people around her, rather than her directly. She's stubborn, especially when she thinks she's acting for the well being of others. And if Madi's anything like her, then the same thing applies. They both have each other's best interests at heart, and I can see them getting emotional when they think the other is hurting.


	3. A Smoulder

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bellamy gets clued in to an aspect of Clarke's isolation he'd tried very hard not to think about. McCreary celebrates his arrival at the bunker by poking the bear.

Clarke was flustered as she watched Octavia's people set McCreary up in what seemed to be a disused storage room, her brief chat with Bellamy playing through her mind. She tried to focus on the situation in front of her but there wasn't much to oversee; as the group of men tasked with securing McCreary seemed to relish the opportunity to manhandle someone outside of Wonkru. They shoved their new prisoner each time he struggled against his restraints, locking metal cuffs to his wrists and securing him to a sturdy pipe on the far side of the wall.

Clarke noticed there were no cameras or radios in the room; but the structure was sturdy enough, even as McCreary pulled against it with all his might. It did nothing but give his guards another reason to push him to the ground. This time when he got up, he seemed to shake of some of his aggression, choosing instead to survey those in the room aggressively. Including her.

"What a surprise to see you here, beautiful," he sneered. She glared back at him as he dragged his eyes along her body, before shifting his attention to the others in the room. At the same time, several men shuffled out the door before Octavia swept in, trailed by Indra and Cooper. Moments after her, Bellamy and Monty followed, and Clarke could faintly hear Murphy outside, snarking at the men who had taken McCreary off his and Emori's hands.

Bellamy caught her eye, and she quickly turned her head back to McCreary, surprised to see him watching her intently. Whatever he saw made him smile leeringly, and Clarke returned his stare blankly, confused by the attention.

Octavia approached McCreary, swiftly landing a blow to his stomach, smiling as he doubled over in obvious pain, knees planting on the ground. She grabbed at his hair, pulling his head back and snarling in his face.

"I hope you'll have many secrets to share with us," she stage-whispered, almost conspiratorially. "Otherwise I'm sure we'll find much sport in using you for target practice." She shoved his head as she straightened, turning to leave the room. Her voice boomed as she exited, "leave him here to stew. No food or water. Either he talks, or he dies"

From his place on the ground, McCreary met Clarke's eyes again, holding her gaze as the others left the room. Realising that Bellamy was lingering in the room with them, Clarke made a hasty retreat, hardly taking a second to acknowledge him as she barreled through the door and back through the hallways to Madi. On her way out she encountered Octavia in talks with Cooper, and she slowed her pace to overhear them.

"He's of no use to us," Cooper warned. "We know that Diyoza seeks to destroy Wonkru. There is nothing he can tell us. And what can we bargain him for? Any negotiation will make us look weak to your people. We should string him up, let the people know what we do to our enemies."

Octavia was silent for a moment, regarding Cooper, and then locking eyes with Clarke as she slowly approached them. The seconds stretched while the two considered each other, Clarke unable to discern what the other was thinking.

"Clarke," she begun. "You spent some time amongst those men. Do you think he'll be any good to us?"

Clarke stopped walking. Looking between the two women and contemplating her answer.  
"It depends," she answered honestly. "Diyoza seemed intent on keeping her people alive when Bellamy was using them as hostages. It stands to reason she'd have some reluctance in seeing him killed. So at the very least, holding him might be a deterrent for any aerial attacks." Octavia's eyebrows lifted at that, and Clarke was glad she seemed to be open to reason. She continued, "and we might be able to get a sense of the dynamic between Diyoza and her people. Maybe even find out how they're using Kane and my mother."

Octavia shifted her eyes to Cooper at the mention of Kane and Abby, and her countenance shifted.

"6 hours," she suggested to Cooper. "Why not play with our food for a little while. See if Clarke's right and there's anything at all we can use him for. After that he's yours to do with what you like." She finished offhandedly.

She met Clarke's eyes again, challenging her to question the woman's decision. Clarke chose to clench her jaw instead, refusing to look away from the younger woman's glare.

* * *

After finding Madi, they both decided to get some air, exiting the bunker to take stock of the rover. She'd left Madi perched on the hood with some books to read while she checked over some of their supplies in the trunk. She was halfway through reassembling her rifle when she heard heavy footfalls crunching against the stones behind her. She was reluctant to turn around, thinking of the only person who she had any unfinished business with inside the bunker. She turned slowly anyway, rifle still in her hands, to see Bellamy frowning softly at her.

"We never finished our chat in there," He started, and Clarke resisted the urge to scoff, turning back to complete the task in front of her.

"Is that what that was?" She questioned instead, trying to keep her tone light. She focused on screwing the muzzle on carefully, appreciating the cool metal under her fingers.

"I didn't say it was a good chat," he returned. He closed some of the distance between them, leaning against the rover and watching over her work. They stood there in silence for a while. Clarke tried not to tense up too greatly, unused to such a large presence near her after so long. It was something she was going to have to relearn. After only a little while she felt her nerves settle slightly, but her body was still singing at the sensation of him so close to her side.

She set the rifle down and grabbed at a canister, surprised to find it shut too tightly for her to open. She brought it close to her chest and strained for a moment, huffing in annoyance. She heard a soft laugh from Bellamy before he was moving to grab it from her, his hand skimming along her the bare skin of her chest where her jacket had gaped open. His hand closed around the canister, brushing against her fingers as he did, and Clarke felt her skin burn from the contact. Her cheeks flushed immediately and she withdrew her hands quickly, moving to collect some gauze absentmindedly while she saw him work at opening the canister in her periphery.

"Sorry," he said, and she wondered if he noticed her reaction. "We weren't sure where you kept your bullets so we rifled back here before we came to get you. I must have a been a bit too overzealous in sealing this," He laughed. Clarke gave a half hearted chuckle back as her shoulders sagged, taking the canister back from him once it was open. Again their fingers touched and she tried not to suck in a breath at the warm sensation of his skin against hers.

It was ridiculous to be this easily flustered, but she attributed it to the six years she'd spent with almost no physical comfort. To be touched by anyone remotely attractive would cause the same reaction, she reassured herself. She directed a small smile his way, deciding to focus on the task at hand again.

"Two days back and you're already messing with my stuff," she grumbled, shoving the extra gauze into the canister. She put some more distance between them by leaning against the other side of the rover's door, resting her weight on her hip and reaching across herself to grab at a pack she'd previously stocked. She looked up at him while unfastening the bag and caught him scratching the back of his neck absentmindedly.

"Well technically," he gambled, smiling. "It used to be my rover. So, it's really kind of _our_ stuff in a way," he gestured between them. She sent him a dubious look, forgetting her initial discomfort at his company. Falling back into a familiar, playful antagonism with him.

"That's how you're playing it?" She asked, forgetting about the bag momentarily. "I dug this rover out from the rubble with my bare hands, kept it in working condition for the past six years, and you want to get all territorial over it?" she challenged, not sure if she expected him to argue back. "I think I earnt ownership rights."

Instead of grumbling like she thought he would, his smile widened; and she found herself crowded against the rover as he lent towards her, towering over her as she brought the bag up reflexively between them.

"Maybe," he conceded. "But if all I need to do is screw caps, and tie ropes, too tightly; you're going to have a one hell of a fight on your hands," he laughed, seeming completely amused by the concept. Clarke blinked owlishly at his response, floored by his smile and laughter when minutes ago the thought of him had her almost in tears. It was strange for Clarke to see him this playful. Especially when only hours ago he'd looked ready to pull his hair out from stress.

Maybe that's what she was to him right now, she contemplated, a distraction from everything else going on around him. The thought overtook her brain, even as she struggled to move or say anything. He was still crowded closely to her, close enough that she could feel the heat radiating off him. And his eyes were still sparkling at her with that infuriating smirk of his when she felt him move closer, almost imperceptibly. But his chest was brushing up against the backs of her fingers when she was sure a moment ago she'd only felt the air between them. She saw the smirk drop from his face and she swallowed, suddenly very nervous…

There was a clamoring towards the front of the rover that shook them free of whatever moment they had found themselves in. Bellamy scratched at the back of his neck and retreated to lean back against the door away from her, and she went back to checking through her bag almost furiously, glancing through the rover to see Madi staring curiously at her through the windshield. Clarke was sure then that she was blushing, feeling the heat crawling up her neck and into her cheeks. So, she changed the topic.

"Did Octavia give you her six-hour deadline on McCreary? Have you had a chance to talk to him?" she asked, sobering as she continued to distract herself with the bag's contents. She felt Bellamy's eyes on her but refused to look up this time.

"Yeah. We were in the room when that information was shared with him." Out of the corner of her eye she saw him crossing his arms over his chest, a telltale sign that he was back in leader mode, trying to figure out moves like he was playing a chess match. She was almost disappointed to see the playful smile on his face disappear, but it seemed far safer for her frayed nerves.

"He didn't seem too open to talking though," Bellamy bristled. "Cooper kicked us out not too long after that. Haven't had a chance to get back in there yet." Clarke looked up at him then, contemplating the situation. She wondered if McCreary would be receptive to her at all. He caught her look and asked, "you got anything up your sleeve princess?"

Her brow crinkled at the moniker, and she shook her head slightly.

"Keeping him here only works in our favour if he's got a reason to share intel. If we can work a wedge between him and Diyoza, make it seem like she's abandoned him somehow… He might be willing to shift alliances," she shrugged. "Maybe."

"That's a big maybe," Bellamy returned. The looked at each other a moment longer. Wheels turning in both their heads. Then a yell from Monty had Bellamy turning to search for him. The man was waving at them from a block away, and he jogged the rest of the way to meet them.

"Hey guys, got some good news!" He smiled at them. "We don't have a way in to their system just yet, but I got some code across the radio that seems to be from Raven and Echo. It just said, 'Working on it,' and was signed off R and E," Monty finished, looking between the two of them with a relieved smie. Clarke watched as Bellamy shifted on his feet, seeming to relax and stiffen at the same time.

"That's great news Monty." Bellamy clapped him on the back, giving him a strained smile. "I'm going to talk to my sister. See if we can get some time with our new prisoner." He nodded at Clarke and turned to head back down to the bunker. Monty waited a second longer to smile at her before heading off to follow him.

* * *

After the strange confession from Clarke earlier that morning, her words had been burning circles in his brain. _'You don't owe me anything'_ she'd said, like there was something she wanted from him but couldn't get, or something she expected, but hadn't received. His head was spinning at the concept, mind immediately going to places it shouldn't. Thinking of the vulnerable looks she'd sent his way in the past, the way her eyes sometimes tripped down to his lips when they were close.

But he'd spent the last six years doing his best not to think about her like that, so he pushed the thoughts as far to the back of his mind as possible, hoping against hope that they'd fall out of his head entirely by the time he saw her again. He had other things to worry about. Like _Echo,_ he reminded himself, feeling immediately guilty.

Monty found him as he was following the small crowd converging on McCreary's location in the bunker. The man gave him a long look, as if to say, ' _it's done',_ and Bellamy nodded sternly at him in reply. They passed Murphy snarking at some of the Wonkru men, and Bellamy found a smile crossing his face as the man sent a nod his way, a snarking Murphy was a content Murphy after all. They reached the locker room shuffling in after Octavia, and Bellamy's eyes immediately caught Clarke's.

_'You don't owe me anything,'_ her words flashed through his mind again, and he found himself frowning at her when she broke eye contact with him to focus on McCreary. Bellamy looked over too, and he was disconcerted by the smile he saw the man directing her way. Lecherous only begun to describe the man's gaze. Seconds later Octavia's presence was flooding the room as she punched the man and began to threaten him. Again, Bellamy noticed McCreary's gaze focusing on Clarke, and it made his skin crawl, fists clenching at his sides.

Octavia swept out of the room moments later, leaving Miller and another grounder to watch over the prisoner. Bellamy lingered with Monty, sharing another look with him that had Monty shaking his head in reply. Then Clarke was barreling past him, giving him a brief nod and strained smile as she made her way out of the room. He looked over at McCreary, back on his feet and tugging at his restraints against the metal piping of the room. He caught Bellamy's eyes and smiled, walking forward until his chains pulled taut.

"Pretty girl," was all he said nodding towards the empty doorway. Despite the other men in the room, Bellamy found himself approaching the prisoner, sizing him up through a glare. He stopped just outside the man's reach, gaze hardened, and mouth set in a sneer. McCreary's leer only widened in amusement as he edged his face closer to Bellamy's.

"Bet you never took the chance to fuck her," the man whispered conspiratorially into Bellamy's ear. "Before you left her here all on her lonesome," he continued, words dripping with faux sympathy. He backed off and huffed a laugh, rolling his shoulders and sneering again, voice louder. "Bet she'd welcome a warm touch from just about anyone now. Might have to offer my services?" He suggested.

Bellamy struck out without thinking, fist connecting with McCreary's cheek and sending him back against the wall. Then he was grabbing the man by the front of his coveralls, snarling at the man.

"Don't you fucking touch her," he threatened, and McCreary just smiled in response as Miller and the other grounders began to forcibly separate them, shoving Bellamy from the room.

He heard a laugh from the man as he collected himself in the hallway, readjusting his jacket as Monty approached him with a worried look.

"What did he say to get you riled up like that?" Monty queried, as Murphy sidled up to join them. "Octavia can handle herself. The protective big brother deal doesn't make a lot of sense when your sister is like the toughest person in the world," he continued, and Bellamy was silently thankful that he'd read the situation incorrectly. He still fumed though, watching as Monty glanced surreptitiously around them, making sure they were alone. Satisfied, he reached into his pocket, grabbing a handful of devices and passing them along to Bellamy. He eyed them quickly in his open palm before handling them further. The small earbud he shoved into his ear immediately, not questioning its purpose. The small disc and slightly larger plastic box he continued to hold out, and Monty pointed at both in quick succession.

"The disc, you'll need to place somewhere in the room, as close to McCreary as possible while still being discreet." Monty pointed at the box. "That's the receiver, keep it in your pocket and you'll be able to hear the room from almost anywhere in the bunker, or up top in the ruins. It's got a range of 500m. Battery life is so-so, but we won't need to swap them out for at least 24 hours."

Bellamy shoved the devices in his pockets, clapping Monty on the back with a smile. He was about to ask Murphy how he was holding up when Cooper came storming back into the hallway. She barely spared them a glance before making her way back into the room, and Bellamy dismissed the two other men with a nod before following her in.

"You've been given six hours," she delivered loftily, focused on the chained man in front of her. McCreary looked somewhat bored, surveying the room and the eyes trained on him. Bellamy took the chance to move quietly to a small table that had been pushed against the wall, settling his back against it and securing the small disc from his pocket onto its underside. Bellamy was watching Cooper and the guards intently, and didn't notice McCreary's regarding him carefully from the corner of his eye. Cooper continued, "if we don't hear from Diyoza or receive any intel we deem useful, we'll dispose of you. So, you might want to think very carefully about how you wish to spend your remaining hours on this earth."

"Good to know," was all she got back from McCreary. Cooper turned and noticed Bellamy, who was now leaning against the table with his arms crossed. She gave him a pointed look and he moved from the table, walking out of the room in front of her. He shoved his hand into his pocket and fingered the receiver, switching it on discretely. The bud in his ear crackled to life, and he heard an echo of his footsteps as he entered the hallway and the faint shuffling of feet and scrapping of material on concrete that probably signified McCreary settling back against the wall as the door shut and locked behind them.

Bellamy made his way outside not long after that, spotting Clarke and Madi around the rover. He made his way over, half listening to the bud in his ear, half consumed by the words from Clarke and McCreary that were still spinning around in his head.

Clarke paused from her work on a rifle to look at him and Bellamy said the first thing that came to mind.

"We never finished our chat in there," He started, and he watched as Clarke scoffed lightly at him, her eyes rolling slightly as she leant back over her rifle.

"Is that what that was?" She questioned, and Bellamy found himself distracted enough by watching her to speak without thinking.

"I didn't say it was a good chat," he returned blithely. He closed some of the distance between them, leaning against the rover and watching over her work. He became pre-occupied watching her hands as she moved, thinking over McCreary's words again. About welcoming a warm touch. He hadn't let himself think of that before, how physically lonely the six years must have been for her. Now all he could think about was the way she'd reacted to his embrace that first night he was back, or the way she'd touched his arm to comfort him in the last few hours. Had she touched anyone else like that? He wondered.

He watched as she grabbed at a canister, looking on as her eyes widened and she brought it close to her chest, straining and huffing in an attempt to open it. Bellamy laughed and moved to grab it without thinking. He felt the back of his hand skimming against her bare skin and he fought not to react to the sensation, willing his brain and his body to keep moving. His hand closed around the canister and he felt his fingers brush against hers. His lips pursed, but luckily Clarke wasn't watching his face, and he noticed her cheeks flush as she dropped her hands from the canister to collect some gauze laying on the floor of the rover.

"Sorry," he said, but he wasn't sure what he was apologizing for. He hadn't meant to take her by surprise, but he was secretly thrilled by the flush that had overtaken her cheeks at this touch. He said none of this. Instead, he forced a laugh.

"We weren't sure where you kept your bullets, so we rifled back here before we came to get you. I must have a been a bit too overzealous in sealing this," Clarke gave a halfhearted chuckle back as her shoulders sagged, and he passed the canister back to her, making sure that their fingers brushed again. He watched in fascination at her reaction to his touch and found himself eager to see what other reactions he could pull from her.

"Two days back and you're already messing with my stuff," she grumbled. And with that he felt himself pulled back into a strangely familiar game with her. The retort falling from his lips without him thinking about it, the playful way he crowded her space; it all came back to him like breathing after six years in a vacuum.

All the while he catalogued her reactions to him, the way she'd frown and pout, her eyes betraying the warmth she felt at his banter. He noticed, and ignored, the way she pulled the bag she was holding between them as he leant closer, focusing instead on the way her eyes widened owlishly, her lips parting. He moved closer at that, drawn to the warm breath puffing gently across his face as she seemed to struggle for something to say.

He felt her fingers brushing against his chest, felt as they tensed around the bag she was still holding between them. Then there was a loud metallic clamour from the front of the rover and Bellamy's brain suddenly kicked back into gear again. He moved back, scratching his neck as he leant back against the rover. He absentmindedly watched as a blush took over her cheeks, annoyed with how happy the sight made him.

The conversation turned to McCreary and Bellamy sobered further, discussing the possibility of gaining intel from the man.

Then Monty was running towards them, sharing news of Echo and Raven, and Bellamy was kicking himself for how distracted he'd let himself become, how consumed he'd just been with Clarke's presence. Echo was literally in the firing line trying to help them, and he'd instead become fascinated with making another girl blush. He was a fucking asshole. He noticed Clarke watching him out of the corner of his eye and felt his body fighting against itself at her gaze, heating with nervousness and shame all at the same time.

He excused himself with some half thought out plan of action, making his way to the bunker with Monty close on his heels. He offered to take over in front of the computer, giving the other man a chance to catch up with Harper, maybe grab something to eat for them both.

That's where he found himself half an hour later, watching the screen intently, his gut still swirling with anxiety and shame. He was only half paying attention to the device in his ear when he heard the creaking of a door crackling through the earpiece. His attention sharpened at the sound of the door closing again, he heard light shuffling of feet against concrete as someone moved through the room, and the soft voice of the girl Bellamy was desperately trying not to think about.

"We need to talk"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things will be getting darker from here on out. McCreary in my head is probably a real piece of work. So, swearing and some dicey situations will be coming into play from this chapter onwards.
> 
> Also, given the time that the Eligius crew departed from Earth, I bet the prisoners have a lot of pop culture references that we might know. I'm willing to bet good money that we get a "saved by the bell" or "xena warrior princess" quip directed at one of the Blake siblings...


	4. A Flash

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke gets more than she bargained for when she goes to question McCreary. Bellamy loses his head.

The truly heartbreaking thing about memory is how easily it can slip away from you when there's nothing to help you hold on to it. After her father died and she was sent to the Skybox, Clarke had desperately held onto his watch. She tried to picture the way it looked on him, or the way he would talk her through the steps he took to set it. When she was sent to the ground, the thing she didn't anticipate was how swiftly those memories would fade until they were only blurry recollections.

It was the smell, she realized later on. Down on the ground, there was nothing familiar about the scents in the air; without the stale metallic chill that she'd grown up in, a lot of her fondest memories began to slip through her fingers.

It was the same after the world was burnt away. The air was wiped clean of anything that could help her remember her friends. There were no stray jumpers or sweatshirts that still had the scent of her closest friend clinging to them. No soaps or balms that she could uncap and throw herself back into a memory with.

With that in mind, what she did remember she clung onto with all her might; drawing as much as possible and waiting for the day that her friends would be real to her once again.

So, when the world flipped on its head again and she found herself in Bellamy's arms after six years, she expected to be flooded by the familiarity of his embrace. But she wasn't. The warmth of his body under her hands felt right, but there was something strangely off about him that had Clarke feeling cautious. She sensed immediately that he had changed, but was unable to put a finger on how.

It was hours later, after chatting to him in front of the fire, that she had realized that her intuition had been hijacked by her olfactory nerves. Bellamy no longer carried that distinctly woody scent to him anymore. The smell of trees, and dirt, and sweat, and gun oil that somehow combined in a way that became beautiful on him, was gone.

When she had pressed her face into his shoulder there was still something faintly familiar about him, something that had her heart aching in her chest. But it didn't bring back the rush of memories and emotion she'd expected.

Instead, there was a colder, more metallic scent that clung to him. Like Ozone and something Clarke couldn't quite place, something sharp. It made him seem like a changed man. And when she'd watched as he embraced Echo later that day, she felt sure that he was changed for good. That he was made for someone else to hold now. Not her.

And then. Then more time had passed. And when he'd crowded her against the rover to argue playfully about her stuff, she'd sensed something different, something more familiar, about the way he smelt. It was like the world around them was bringing the old Bellamy back to her bit by bit.

It was a dangerous feeling. Because it clouded her head with memories she'd thought had faded away. It had her feeling a pull in her gut to seek him out just to be near him. It made her want to give voice to emotions she had never said out loud to anyone.

So, she did what she'd always been good at, which was to dive headlong into a potential life or death situation that completely superseded her love life. It had always been very effective.  


* * *

  
Madi had watched Clarke move around the rover with eyes bursting with curiosity.

"What was that with Bellamy?" She finally asked with a hushed voice. "I've never seen you look like that before," she continued excitedly, "all blushing, and shy." The girl almost squealed, her earlier upset from the morning seemingly forgotten. Clarke finally met her eyes for the first time in minutes, a faint heat still flooding her cheeks.

"Madi," she groaned, exasperated. "Whatever it is you think you saw back there. It wasn't anything. Don't let yourself get worked up over it," she finished, as much to herself as to Madi. The young girl pouted. But there was a glint to her eye that Clarke knew meant trouble. So she sighed, ruffling the girl's hair before securing the rover and turning to head back to the bunker.

"I'm going to do have a chat with someone now," she explained, taking Madi's hand to help her down from the Rover's bonnet. "Did you want to hang out in the tent? Or would you like to spend some time with Monty and Harper? I'm sure they'd love to get to know you better if they're not busy."

Madi choose to spend time with Clarke's friends, hoping to learn more about what she'd been like when they had first met. They made their way through the campsite and found Monty and Harper sitting together outside their tent. Once the girl was absorbed in one of Monty's stories, Clarke made her way to the bunker, tracing her steps to the door that stood between her and McCreary.

She made her way in, taking note of the one-sided locking mechanism of the door. McCreary was where she expected him, sitting with his back against the wall. He watched her carefully as she entered, eyes lighting up as she closed the door tightly behind her.

"We need to talk," she started, moving cautiously towards him. He gave her a dangerous smirk and moved to stand up, bracing one shoulder against the pipe he was chained against.  
He leant further into it to relax his stance, like he hadn't a care in the world.

"Alright," he drawled. "Let's talk, sweet thing." Clarke baulked at the nickname, crossing her arms tight across her chest. "But what should be talk about, hmmm?" He continued, his tone casual. "You know who likes to talk? The rat we caught on our ship. Murphy, right? He had some real interesting things to say when he and the tattooed girl were dragging me here."

"How about we talk about what's going to happen if you don't give us some information in the next six hours?" Clarke suggested instead. "Diyoza might not even know you've been captured. So unless you've got something these people can use to fight for the valley, you won't live to see sunset."

" _These_ people," McCreary noted. At the questioning look Clarke shot him, he elaborated. "You said _these_ people. Not ' _m_ _y_ ' people." He shrugged, watching her carefully. Clarke raised an eyebrow in reply.

"I don't have a people," she said, indifferently. McCreary gasped in feigned surprise.

"Oh? What about that little girl I've heard about, you seemed pretty attached to her?" McCreary's eyes were calculating as he stared her down. Clarke's jaw clicked as she ground her teeth, determined to appear unmoved by the taunt. "Not even the big guy?" He continued. "I would have thought you were _pretty_ close for him to pull that stunt with the hostages, just to have you released."

McCreary was edging closer to her as he spoke, voice thick with feigned enthusiasm. He paused in contemplation for a moment before sneering at her.

"At least that's what I would have thought, until listening to that piece of shit Murphy talk for hours straight," he muttered. "About good ol' Clarke stuck on the ground alone; big brave Bellamy finding love again in space… It must suck to pine away on your lonesome for six years, only to find out he's been fucking someone else since he left you." McCreary hadd gotten close enough to her now that he began to tower over her intimidatingly, but she just glared at his words.

"I wonder how long he waited before wetting his cock? Bet she's real pretty too." There was an edge to his tone, challenging her to respond to him. But Clarke had dealt with too many demons over the past seven years to react so easily, so she squared her feet and swallowed the acrid bitterness that swirled in his gut at his words.

"My Mother," she began. "The doctor, Abby. Tell me how she's being treated. Is she ok?" McCreary took half a step back, dubious now that his taunts hadn't landed on Clarke the way he'd intended.

"Oh, we're treating her just fine. But she's not doing so good. Must have gotten into the habit of self-prescribing a little too often, to survive the last few years." His tone shifted again, back to the growl he'd been baiting her with moments before.

"How about you?" He queried. "How did you survive six years on your own? Must have been tough," he conceded, moving closer and running his eyes along her body. "But I bet you found ways to make it more bearable." He moved closer still, and she backed away, trying to keep a little distance between them. She hadn't realized she'd been herded until she felt her thighs make contact with a table behind her.

"Did you fuck yourself while thinking of tall, dark and handsome?" He leered. "Did you pretend it was his fingers getting you off instead of your own?" Clarke felt her resolve slipping, and she frowned sadly as McCreary crowded her. He noticed the look, smiling again before his tone gentled, almost cooing at her when he spoke next.

"Meanwhile, he was buried between the legs of another woman, forgetting _all_ about you." He was nodding softly at her as he spoke, eyes shining at her in sympathy. Clarke found her hands bracing on the table behind her, and despite her best efforts she felt her eyes misting over.

"After everything you've been through. A girl like you deserves _better_ ," he comforted. "Someone to worship that pretty little cunt of yours. Fuck you real good. Make you forget about _everyone_ who forgot about you." McCreary reached towards her gently, hands almost taut against his restraints as he ran the back of his fingers against her belly, edging towards her belt. Clarke was stock still, mind unable to process the situation she found herself in.

She began to move, grabbing at his hand to push him away, when the door burst open; Bellamy stood there flushed and furious as he took in the two of them. His face transformed into a snarl as he charged into the room, grabbing McCreary and hauling him away from Clarke and against the wall.

"You piece of shit. You don't fucking touch her," he roared.

He shoved at McCreary again and again, swearing once more as the man began to laugh at his anger. Clarke got over her surprise moments later, moving to intervene when Miller burst into the room. Bellamy turned and leveled a glare at the man, relaxing slightly seconds later and giving the prisoner one last shove into the wall before backing away. Before Miller had a chance to question the pair, Bellamy grabbed her by the forearm and dragged her into the hallway.

"What the hell was that?" he questioned, angrily. It took Clarke a second to process his words, body still cycling through the barrage of emotions she'd been subjected to moments before. When she did she found herself biting back, frustrated at herself and the undeserved anger directed her way.

"What the hell was…" she parroted, trailing off and shaking her head. "Whatever the fuck it was, I had it handled." She fell further into anger as she approached Bellamy. "I was trying to get information out of the guy to help _you_ and _your_ family out. You don't get to be angry at whatever it is you think you saw in there," she countered, shoving at his shoulder. "And until you calm down, do me a favour and stay away from me."

She shoved past him and barreled down the hallway away from him.  


* * *

 

Bellamy had immediately started moving when he'd heard Clarke in his earpiece. He'd slowly stood up from the monitor, listening carefully and growing more concerned the moment McCreary mentioned Murphy and started baiting her. His gut began twisting with anxiety as soon as McCreary mentioned him, hearing nothing from Clarke in reply.

He was at a near run by the time he'd heard them move closer to the table where Bellamy had hidden the bug, uncaring that he was drawing attention from the men he passed in the halls. McCreary's words had him seeing red, body tense with anger and something else he couldn't quite process as he finally shoved his way through the door.

The next few moments were a blur once he saw them; the heat on Clarke's cheeks, McCreary's hand along her belly. He didn't come back to himself until Miller was in the room, and he instinctively grabbed at Clarke to drag her into the hallway.

And then he was directing his rage at Clarke, unable to shift the image of her and McCreary from his head. How could she have let him touch her? Why hadn't she said anything? His blood was singing even as she lashed out at him and stormed off.

He stood there for a long time, watching passively as Miller exited the room and padlocked the door behind him. His thoughts kept jumping from one thought to the next haphazardly. Most of all he felt shame, hating the thought of Clarke picturing him like that. Like he'd thrown her away. But he couldn't say that wasn't what he'd done. Clarke had been dead to him. He'd had to find a way to be happy, and _Echo_ made him happy. But now it felt twisted in his gut, like it was something disgraceful.

His earpiece crackled to life again; McCreary huffed a laugh, sighing jovially.

"Hope you enjoyed the show."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ta Dah! Only a couple of days left until the next episode, and I don't think I'm going to be able to finish this in time. But I'll do my darndest! 
> 
> Who cares if I'm up at 2:30am typing right?


	5. Chapter five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bellamy gets frustrated, Clarke gets angry, and McCreary makes a move

* * *

  
_"Hope you enjoyed the show"_  
  
  _  
_

Bellamy fought the urge to charge back into the makeshift cell at the mirthless chuckle he heard through his earpiece, choosing instead to rip it from his ear and stalk towards the room Monty had setup their base of operations in.

The room was as he'd last seen it, the monitor blinking the same frustrating message, situation unchanged with the targeting system and Echo's mission. He sat himself down and stared hard at the machine, wiling it to update and give him an opportunity to focus on something other than the rage and frustration swirling in the pit of his stomach at the exchange he'd witnessed between Clarke and McCreary. At one point, Monty ducked into the room and handed him a radio, explaining that he and Murphy were monitoring the same bandwidth and could check in with him if anything changed. After that he'd been left alone to stew once more, listening mindlessly to the idle chatter between Murphy and the others crackling over the narrowband.

He sat there for what could have been hours before the hatch opened again, Octavia approaching him with a frown and Indra trailing behind her faithfully. Bellamy gave his sister a long look, and the two siblings exchanged frowns in silence for the next few moments before Octavia spoke.

"Word is, you had a bit of an altercation, brother," she started. Bellamy said nothing, taking care to keep his expression as blank as possible. Octavia's gaze flickered to the tick in his jaw as his teeth clenched, and he thought he saw a hint of a smile cross her face.

"It's nice there's still some of the same old Bellamy in there after all, but I've got to wonder what he said to bring out that side of you," she contemplated, tipping her head to the side to consider him. "You seemed determined to keep a level head over the past few days. For him to have gotten through that facade so easily... I'm surprised"

Bellamy shifted, letting out a frustrated sigh and looking away from her.

"It wasn't anything, Octavia," he deflected. "Clarke was in there with him and-."

"Oh that explains it," Octavia interrupted, smirking broadly at him, her eyes widening with the realization she'd had. "You always were quick to react when you thought Clarke was in trouble," she concluded almost brightly. Bellamy watched her move around him in the room, coming to stand behind the monitor to face him front on. She sobered quickly as she considered him, her tone becoming derisive.

"Does she still need you coming to her rescue?" She asked, eyes hardening. "Still your princess?"

Bellamy's eyes flickered between the monitor and his sister's stare, a heavy feeling starting to settle in his chest. Her tone echoed McCreary's questions to Clarke, and it pulled him back into the rage he'd been feeling earlier.

"What do you want Octavia?" He queried coldly.  
  
"Nothing you can give me, apparently," she returned quickly. She considered him for a moment longer before letting out a sigh of her own. Whether from frustration or exhaustion, Bellamy couldn't tell. "I'm just here to tell you that we'll be moving the prisoner up top within the hour. We won't be letting him fight in the pit. We're building gallows instead, so people can see what becomes of those sympathetic with the enemy." She kept his gaze as she spoke, letting the information seep in before slowly making her way back to the door.

"There's no great wisdom you or Clarke have to offer me in regard to McCreary. So his usefulness has run its course. You clearly have no way to get him to tell you anything," She continued, shaking her head dismissively as she moved around the room. He heard her huff out a laugh and turned to meet her eyes again, seeing a mirthless smile spread across her lips.

"Besides threatening to beat his head in, that is," she jeered, cocking her head to the side again as she stared him down. "And I'm more than capable of doing that on my own."

Despite her tone, her eyes softened as she reached the door and her smile dropped, a look of what Bellamy could almost describe as sympathy taking over her face.

"You might want to stop trying to protect everyone, big brother. We all spent a long time learning to live without you down here. The world has moved on."  
Indra lingered for a moment after Octavia left, casting him a worried look of her own before sweeping out behind her Bloodreina.

Bellamy stared after them, a frown etched deeply across his brow. His mind stalled, stuck between all the different ways people had told him same thing in the space of a few short hours. The world had changed after he'd abandoned it… it had moved on, it didn't need him to protect it anymore. All that amounted to was something Bellamy wasn't willing to put words to; something he wasn't willing to lose, despite years of thinking he already had.

His mind wandered for a second before he reeled it back, conjuring visions of Clarke's warm skin under his fingertips a few nights previously, the way her lips had pouted at his teasing only hours earlier.

Bellamy gave his head a fierce shake, standing from the bench and moving to head out from the bunker. He radioed Monty to take over in front of the monitor before leaving, mind cloudy and unfocused as he progressed through the hallways with no true destination in mind.

* * *

Clarke was by the rover again, this time alone. Her encounter with McCreary and Bellamy had left her more unsettled than she cared to admit, and she'd reacted instinctively, itching to run away and regain her bearings. She'd hopped into the rover and had shifted it into gear moments before she realized there was nowhere to go; settling instead for driving it to the furthest border of the makeshift campgrounds, facing the direction of the valley. She'd sat behind the wheel staring at the scorched landscape ahead of her and had lost track of time, weighing her options once again. Her thoughts circled around and around to the same conclusion. They were trapped.

Madi found her shortly afterwards, letting her know that she'd be with Gaia at the temporary construction site the grounders were erecting within the ruins. Clarke had asked what it was for, but Madi didn't know, saying that she'd only been told that the novitiates were helping to cart supplies. Clarke had seen her off with her customary farewell of "be careful," and had set about busying herself with the Rover.

Now, she was counting bullets; shifting each slug with her thumb before dropping it into the box she normally kept under the driver's seat.  
In the last few days the rover had been drained of its supplies, and she found the haphazard state of the vehicle increasingly vexing. The handguns she normally stored overhead the driver's seat had disappeared, and the preloaded clips in the console were gone too. So she was taking inventory, carefully noting each lost item and growing increasingly irritated at the situation she found herself in.

She knew her friends had needed supplies to mount their rescue attempt, and normally she would have been more than relieved to know they were properly protecting themselves. But the last few days had left her reeling in more ways than one, and the unexpected pilfering of the rover added to the sense of theft she was feeling over the whole situation.

What was hers had been taken from her, and logically she had no right to ask for it back. No right to feel the deep lurch inside her chest every time she thought of all the things she felt some sort of ownership over. But the lurch came anyway, each time she pictured the main source of her dejection. So, she tapped into the earlier frustration she'd felt at his interference with McCreary. His stupid arrogant assertions. The moronic way he'd manhandled her. His idiotically cute freckles and his dumb beautiful mouth.

Her frown deepened, and she started tossing each bullet more forcefully into the box, thinking instead of the possible routes the conflict could flow towards. The optimist in her hoped there could be a parley between the grounders and the Eligius crew. But the realist was already planning an escape for herself and Madi. There were some natural cave systems that she'd found a year or so back, and while supplies were sparse, it might be possible for them to survive there for a while if needed. Or at least it might be somewhere for Madi to hide while Clarke figured things out.

Clarke sobered further, halting both her planning and her movements. There were so many other factors at play now. So many more people she had to consider the survival of. Her mind wandered again to Bellamy, the family he would refuse to leave behind. And Madi, pledged to serve Octavia and her mission as a member of Wonkru. Clarke felt her mind shifting back around to her earlier conclusion, they were trapped.

* * *

McCreary was trapped… momentarily. His hands had been lashed to piece of rebar exposed in the shitty ruin they'd jostled him into moments earlier. The handcuffs were gone, replaced with a piecemeal rope that smelt like stale blood and rot. Through the decaying walls, he could hear the unmistakable sound of construction, no doubt the gallows their Blodraina had been crowing about earlier. The doorway was blocked by a hulking grounder he'd heard referred to as Tendo.

But McCreary saw him as no more than a temporary impediment to his freedom. Although his exact thoughts weren't nearly as finessed or free from expletives.

The truth of the matter was that McCreary prided himself on being, above all other things, tenacious. It had led him in and out of trouble all his life, and had turned him into a creature of unshakable ferocity. It had turned him into a man of honed instinct when it came to survival… a man with a keen ability to sense weakness in others.

And since his arrival to the bunker, McCreary had been inundated by weakness. The quiet desperation of the bunker's young leader, the perverse nihilism of the boy who had captured him… and above all, the shared weakness of the lone survivor and her wayward champion.

That was the weakness he thrived on. He saw the way it tethered them together in the few moments he had watched them. The way they carried it in the strained composure they tried to keep around each other, the martyrdom they seemed to perversely drown themselves in.

McCreary watched the two of them and felt a strange sense of glee at the prospect of tearing them apart. If he were a different man, born of a different time, he might wonder where his motivations for sabotaging such a tenuous connection stemmed from. Instead, he felt only a pressing need to insert himself as close to its nucleus as possible and bear witness to its inevitable doom.

It was this motivation that bore him through the tedious hours he'd spent locked up in the bunker, and his subsequent transfer back to the surface. His survival, of course, was always near the forefront of his mind, but it was the thought of raining down emotional devastation on his new enemies that filled him with joy.

It had been especially satisfying watching the boy, Bellamy, break in front of him. He'd been thoroughly enjoying the opportunity to make the girl squirm as he crowded her against the table, but seeing the rage flooding Bellamy's eyes was just as sweet.

That was the sort of weakness McCreary loved, the kind that distracted you from seeing what was right in front of your face. It was exactly that weakness that had allowed him to slip the knife from the young man's belt without anyone noticing.

He'd relished the weight of it in his boot ever since. And now, as he finished slicing through his restraints, carefully watching the back of the temporary impediment guarding the door, he smiled.

* * *

Bellamy found himself watching the construction of the gallows once he'd left the bunker. It was a strange sight. Either the grounders didn't know what gallows were, or Octavia had used the words without knowing herself. As it was, the structure seemed more like a stage. Pieces of sheet metal and concrete had been brought to a clearing close to the centre of the ruins, and they'd been piled carefully to create an elevated platform sturdy enough for the weight of five or so people.

The only part of the structure that remotely resembled gallows was the pole they'd built the platform around. But even that looked like a means to secure someone, rather than hang them.

He'd seen Madi and some of the other children as they'd helped to scavenge the supplies. She'd met his stare with a guileless look but hadn't stopped to talk to him. She did stop with a few of the children, however, to stare and whisper at the guard standing in a doorway at the other side of the clearing. He'd watched them as they took turns walking as close to the doorway as possible, trying to catch a glimpse of whatever lay behind the man's hulking presence.

He'd looked on in fascination for a while longer before moving further through the ruins, finally catching a glimpse of the rover as he made his way to the outskirts of the campgrounds.

Clarke was busy counting supplies again, and Bellamy watched her from a distance, contemplating the way she carried herself with no one else around. Before long he found himself moving towards her, feeling determined and weary at the same time.

She stilled at his approach, and he watched the way her shoulders tensed as he moved up to settle against the rover. She looked up after a moment to meet his gaze wearily, and he tried giving her a tired smile in greeting.

She didn't return it. Instead her eyes searched his for a moment, brow furrowed, before she frowned further and turned back to her work. Bellamy continued to stare at her profile, noting the way she brought her bottom lip between her teeth while she sullenly continued sliding bullets into the clip in her hand.

"What do you want Bellamy?" she asked finally, not looking up. She chucked the loaded clip onto the seat in front of her, picking up another to repeat the process . Her movements seemed fluid and practiced, and Bellamy imagined it was something she could probably do in her sleep. It impressed him, but there wasn't much Clarke could do that didn't impress him at this point.

"I wanted to apologise. For how I reacted back there," Bellamy started, trying to gauge her reaction. "I shouldn't have lashed out at you like that. I thought McCreary was trying to hurt you, and I reacted." It was a lie, but Bellamy didn't need Clarke to know that. She didn't need to know that every word coming out of McCreary's mouth made him sick to the stomach. That the thought of McCreary touching her in the way he'd inferred made Bellamy want to break the prisoner's teeth.

"I just wanted to make sure you were ok." Another lie. It left a foul taste in his mouth. But there must have been something in his tone that sounded like contrition, because Clarke's gaze was softer when she looked up at him again. He wondered if he was imagining the way her eyes misted as she continued to stare at him. She looked away and gave her head a gentle shake.

"Bellamy," she murmured, and Bellamy was sure there was a quiver to her voice. "I appreciate you looking out for me. But you don't need to do that anymore." She was still looking away as she spoke, and as she paused she huffed out a sigh and focused on the half-finished clip in her hands again. "There are other things you need to prioritize. You've got people you need to be looking after now. And I-," she started sliding the bullets into the magazine one by one.

"I've been looking after myself for a long time," she nodded to herself, and Bellamy saw her face harden again. "I get that you can't help jumping into big brother mode whenever you see someone you think needs help, but I've learnt to live without that." She thumbed another bullet into the clip. "And you're not always going to be there to save the day. So I don't want that from you. I can't let myself indulge like that."

Bellamy frowned, and he felt himself growing annoyed at her tone, suddenly indignant at her seeming dismissal of him. He moved forward to cover her hand with his own, halting her movements and forcing her full attention back on him.

"Indulge?" He asked, almost incredulously. "In what? Asking for help?" His grip tightened around her hand, and he found himself scowling at her, unsurprised to see her glaring back at his tone. "Listen Princess", he hissed, the nickname leaving his lips reflexively. "You don't get to dictate who I decide to help. You're pissed that you might have to rely on someone else again? You don't get to decide that you're done with me like that."

Whether it was the nickname, or his tone, his words seemed to unleash something in her, and Bellamy watched her glare turned scornful. She wrenched her hand from his grasp, abandoning her task to face him head on and shove him against the rover.

"Done with you? Fuck you," she spat at him. "I spent the last six years waiting for you to come back." She shoved him again, " _knowing_ that you would come back." Another shove. "I spent six years with a hole in my heart because none of you were by my side. Because I was waiting for you to come home." She stepped back from him, shaking her head as her mouth crumpled.

"What did you do? You thought I died? You mourned me?" Clarke scoffed, almost mockingly. "You buried the thought of me in the ground and moved on. You spent the last six years making sure there wasn't space for me in your life. You leave me out of every decision you've made since we got to the bunker, and all of a sudden you can't handle the thought of me not wanting your help?" She went to shove him again, and the frustration in his gut blossomed into desperation.

"That's not what happened," He returned, fiercely. He let her shove him again and brought his hands up to trap hers against his chest, spinning them until her back was braced against the rover. A moment later he had her wrists held in one hand as he moved to grasp the back of her neck with the other. His fingers carded through her hair as he brought their faces closer, forcing her to meet his eyes. Somewhere behind them a commotion was kicking up in the ruins, but he ignored it, matching her angry gaze with the growing desperation of his own.

"I never let go of you," he continued, voice a near whisper. "Every move I made up there, I imagined what you would do. What you would think." His fingers tightened in her hair, and he kept his eyes locked on hers, holding her gaze. "I missed you every day. You were my best friend."

Clarke met his stare for a moment longer while he held his breath. But whatever she saw in his eyes had her shaking her head gently, and Bellamy watched as her face crumpled into sadness. She tipped her head back, her eyes closing and her lips pursing tightly.

"Clarke," Bellamy pressed, wanting badly to know what she was thinking. "Say something, please." She just shook her head, her bottom lip starting to tremble. "Please," he repeated.  
  
*........*

The blaring of a warning horn broke through the moment, and Bellamy tore his gaze upwards to start scanning the sky. The radio at his side crackled to life, and Murphy's voice hissed across the narrowband.

" _Bellamy, we've got an incoming ship_."

Bellamy grabbed at the radio, stepping away from Clarke to search the horizon. Before he had a chance to reply, Murphy continued.

" _And I don't know how they did it yet, but we've got the backdoor open to the eligius system. Monty's working on disabling their targeting system as we speak_." Bellamy dropped his eyes back to Clarke's, catching the startled look she threw his way.

"Echo," Bellamy started, continuing to meet Clarke's eyes. He saw what looked like hurt flitter across her face before her eyes hardened. "Is she ok? Did she make it out?"

" _I don't know_ ," came the reply. " _But that ship is coming in fast from the reports I'm catching down here. People are losing their shit. You need to get back down here ASAP_."

Bellamy scanned the sky again before answering, unable to spot the ship that had the grounders scrambling.

"Alright, I'm heading down now. Let me know once you've got everyone together. I'll be bringing Clarke." He returned his gaze to her as she took a determined step towards him, her mouth settled into a frown as she began to direct a question at him. He continued radioing, cutting her off before she had time to interrupt. "Is Madi in the bunker with you?"

The answer came almost immediately, fraying Bellamy's nerves as he saw Clarke's worried frown intensify.

" _Not yet_ ," Murphy's voice crackled. " _There are a bunch of kids that just came down with that Gaia chick, but she's not with them_ ". Clarke's face crumbled further into a scowl, and Bellamy grabbed at her as she went to dash away from him. He pulled her back to him by the upper arm and held tight as she went to pull away again, radio forgotten in his other hand.

"Just wait a second," Bellamy pleaded in frustration, squeezing his fingers gently around her arm. Clarke was already turning her body away from him in protest, but he continued to pull her closer until he was practically hugging her arm to his side.

"I've got to look for Madi," Clarke returned, looking incredulously at his hand. "You need find out what's going on with the ship and Echo. Don't wait for us." She turned again to leave and Bellamy didn't hesitate to pull her back, bracing himself as she crashed against him, her face inches from his own.

"That is not happening Clarke. You have a bad habit of disappearing on me completely whenever you go off on your own." Clarke started to protest, and Bellamy continued, cutting her off. "We'll find her together, I'm not letting you go."

She was about to protest again when a new voice cut her off.

"How beautiful…"

They both turned sharply to find McCreary standing a few feet away, covered in blood, a gun levelled at their legs. He wasn't alone.

"I hate to interrupt such a heartfelt moment, but I was hoping to catch a ride. I even brought some precious cargo just for you Clarke." McCreary's mouth curled into a mocking grin, and Bellamy watched the blade in his hand shift against the neck of the young girl braced against him.

Bellamy's chest tightened as Clarke whispered Madi's name desperately, the grounder horn blaring around them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi Hi!
> 
> I'm sorry it's taken me so long to post another chapter. I got waylaid with work and then let the weeks pile up on me. Hopefully this is still of interest to you despite the show probably moving in a completely different direction.
> 
> As punishment for my extreme tardiness, I've exiled myself from spoilers and episodes until I wrap this up. So you can imagine how eager I am to get this down on paper! (electronic or otherwise)
> 
> Feel free to fuel my work ethic with reviews, it's super effective

**Author's Note:**

> Author's Notes: Let's see where this takes us! I'm emotionally compromised with each new episode and kiss we see this season, so I decided to get it of my chest and onto the page.


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